Week of Pez
by jjharris2621
Summary: 7 one shots  possibly  following two of our favorite ladies as they fall in and out of love, plan for the future and add humor and passion to our lives
1. AU

**Happy Pezberry week everybody! Who's excited about this week? Because I am. **

**First up: AU.**

**Enjoy and review. **

**Disclaimer: i own nothing. Not DC or Glee. Sadly.**

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><p>"RACHEL! Let's go! You've got to do better than that!" I heard from the dark corner of the room. I let out a breath of frustration before turning around and sprinting forward. Again. For like what? The twentieth time? So for the twentieth time, I sprinted right into the obstacle course. First came the jump. Easy enough. Straight up for air. Hands grab the top for support. One foot on the wall for leverage and strength for pull. Then up and over. Piece of cake.<p>

Next came the water jump. A little bit harder considering that the length of the jump was probably longer than I am tall but years of training had prepared me for such a thing. I ran with conviction straight for the pit full of murky, questionable water but just like always, iwas hit with a new obstacle. This time, a metal slab appeared in front of my face. I ducked it with ease but just as I turned my head slightly to make sure I had cleared it completely, I felt something hit both my shins at the same time and I was face first in the sludge. Damn. "Rachel! Get yourself together! Again!" I wiped my face and eyes (which stung like hell) before pushing up for the pit and rising to my feet. "Can't we take a break?" I asked, already knowing the answer but trying my luck anyway. "We've been at this for 3 hours now without stopping and I'm just really,"

"What? Tired?" I wanted to say yes but not seeing his face, made him all the more intimidating. So I just bowed my head and continued to clean off bits of water sludge off my body. "So you're tired, huh? Are you going to say that you're tired when there are 10 men attacking you from every side without giving a damn about you being small? Or a girl?"

"No," I said, quietly.

"Are you going to say that you're tired when chasing after a much bigger, much stronger, much faster criminal? Are you going to let them get away just because you're tired?"

"No."

"Well then do it again. And be better." That's when I lost it.

"But I'm doing my best!" I couldn't take the verbal assault anymore. I was tired. My body ached. My head was spinning. I hadn't eaten in hours and the minute I asked for a damn break, he wanted to give me grief?

"Well you're best isn't good enough!"

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Do better." I was about to continue arguing when I heard the elevator ding.

"Oh Master Bruce, give the girl a break. She's been working hard all day." I knew I loved that old man for a reason.

"But Alfred, how am I supposed to know that she can protect herself and others for someone like the Penguin, Catwoman or worst, the Joker if she is not prepared?" Not prepared? The hell I wasn't.

"Bruce, you've been training her for 3 years now. I think she's more than prepared. It's just for one night."

"One can never be too prepared."

"But one can be too fatigued. So, Rachel," I looked up at the old man after my heart, "how about you come upstairs and take a shower whilst I prepare you a nice vegan dinner?"

"You were always my favorite Alfred," I said, slowing walking towards the elevator.

"Fine. You can rest for the night but tomorrow we pick this up," Bruce yells at us as Alfred and I enter the elevator. "And what type of hero is a vegan anyway? Dick, Tim and Barbara all loved a good burger."

"Well this Batgirl is vegan. Deal with it."

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><p>"Alfred, what's going on with him?" I asked as I sat down in the one of the stools by the kitchen island. "I mean, he's been pushing me like I just got here."<p>

"Crime has increased in Gotham in the last few months," the old man said, strolling over to the fridge. "Both The Penguin and Catwoman have kicked up on their usual antics. The Riddler just robbed another science lab. That's a lot to take on for just two people. Especially with Tim away with the Titans."

"Yeah. I hear you. But it seems like nothing I ever do is good enough for him anymore? It seems like,"

"Would you like Italian or Caesar?" Alfred interrupted, peering from behind the refrigerator door.

"What?"

"Salad dressing, dear."

"Oh. Ummm, Italian," I decided.

"Good choice. Oh and go on." I had almost forgotten what I was saying. Oh yeah.

"Right. Look, I get that things are getting crazy around the city but we've been cleaning up these streets together for the last three years and I'm an adult now so he should know that I can take care of myself."

"That's not going to stop him from pushing you. He cares too much." I leaned up against the island on my elbows and rested the side of my face on my hand.

"Weird way of showing it."

"Well you know Master Bruce and his inability to show affection. His mother was the one who showed him any tenderness." Hearing the word mother made me cringe. And Alfred must have picked up on it because he placed the plate of salad in front of me and said, "Do you miss them?" I looked at the salad and nodded.

"Everyday." I didn't want to talk anymore about losing my parents and thankfully, the old man didn't push. He just looked at me affectionately before going to the sink, washing his hands and drying them on his apron. All the while, I just poked at my salad with my fork. Just the mention of my parents made me lose my appetite. "So, are you still going to go on that date tonight?" Shit!

"Date! Santana! I totally forgot!" I practically fell out off the stool scrambling to get to my room.

"I'll take that as a yes?"

"Alfred," I said running towards the stairs, "if she calls, tell her I'm running late because I had a dance class that ran late and I'll be ready as soon as I can."

"Yes, Miss Rachel. Will do." I sprinted up the very long stair case that led to my room and when I finally stopped at my door, I realized how worn down my body really was. How the hell was I supposed to go on a date with such a gorgeous woman when my body probably looked like a splotchy, bruise ridden punching bag with as much mobility as someone in a body cast? So much for getting some "special alone time" with Santana.

At that point, I had two options. I could make up some lame excuse and cancel on her. Again. For the third time that week. OR. I could suck it up and go and hope she didn't notice me limping or slowly losing feeling in my legs. And arms. And torso. And head. Hell, my whole body was falling apart. After several minutes of awkwardly standing in the middle of my very spacious room playing ping pong with my thoughts in my head, I finally decided to go on the date. I mean, why the hell not spend the end of such a grueling night with a smoking hot business woman?

Wondering who this mystery woman I'm talking about? Well allow me to provide you with some back story. I had been casually seeing this 25 year old Latina named Santana Lopez for a few weeks. And she was literally sex on legs and the moment I saw her; I was smitten. We met at one of Bruce's fundraisers for Wayne Enterprises. She was there as an independent investor and boy, did she bring a breath of fresh air into such a stuffy room. While everyone was dressed in black tuxedoes and conservative cocktail dresses, she walked in with a tight, mid thigh length, purple halter top dress. Her hair was down and styled so that a bang hung over one eye. When the visible eye looked across the room and met mine; I literally stopped breathing. Even from across the room, I could feel the intensity of her gaze. I was like she was sizing me up, judging me and checking me out all at the same time. I was frozen in my spot next to the grand foyer and when she gave me a soft smile and a wink; I melted. I watched her for the rest of the night; casually gliding (or at least, that's what it looked like to me) between investors and lawyers and other important people, talking to them with no effort at all. It was like she was the host of the party and not Bruce. She had everyone's attention and I swear she didn't even notice. Or maybe she did and relished in it but I couldn't tell. Either way, it was like I was hypnotized by her very presence and every now and then, she would look my way and give me the same soft smile and wink. I still had the image of her in my head long after she was gone.

For the rest of the night, i thought the sexy mystery woman from the investor's party but when she showed up at the front door of the mansion the next morning; my world shook. She was dressed in a light blue v-neck tank top, black leather jacket, black jeans and black motorcycle boots. I almost didn't recognize the caramel skinned woman on my porch with hair tied in low ponytail and shades on but when she took her aviators off and looked at me with those dark chocolate eyes I had been staring into all the night before; I instantly remembered. "Rachel, right? From the party?" It was the first time I had heard her voice and dear Lord, if it wasn't the sexiest thing that had ever graced my ears. The perfect combination of raspy and sensual. Just thinking about hearing that voice whispering into my ear at night, I forgot she was actually talking to me. "Rachel, right?"

"Huh?" Way to act like a clueless teenager. Well, I was 19 at the time but still I was acting like a 12 year old home schooled kid. She must have sensed my nervousness because she let out a small laugh. Did I mention that even her laugh was sexy? "You're Rachel, right? Bruce's kid?" she asked again.

"Yes. Rachel. I'm Rachel. That's me. Rachel." Best way to flirt: ramble like an idiot. Works every time.

"Well hey Rachel. I'm Santana Lopez. From the party last night."

"Yes. I remember seeing you." **A LOT**.

"Yeah well I remember seeing you there too." She took a step towards me and leaned against the door post on her shoulder. "So look, this may be incredibly random and incredibly direct since this is the first time we've actually spoken and I don't know a thing about you but you're name and I may be way off base here but,"

"Off base about what?" I asked, interrupting her adorable rant.

"I hope I'm not off base in assuming that the way that you were looking at me last night was not in the platonic sense. Because trust me, I wasn't looking at you that way." And there went the air from my lungs again. Was she seriously coming on to me? Out of the blue? Instead of questioning it, I took a step closer and stood right in front of her. "No, you were not misinterpreting my actions," I said, watching her expressions carefully.

"Well good because driving all the way over here to ask you out would have been a serious bust if you weren't in the least bit interested." Oh trust, I was interested.

"So you came over here on the off chance that some random girl you saw at a party once would be interested enough to go out with you?" I asked.

"Too presumptuous?"

"Lucky for you; no."

So after that, she took me out to lunch at her favorite Italian restaurant that luckily and curiously had a vegan menu so I got to eat something more than a salad. We talked and had been talking for weeks since that day. But the weird thing is that even though we talked, I didn't actually know some of the most basic things about her. I mean, I knew little things. Like, what her favorite food was (meat lasagna and garlic bread sticks, _"because what's better than breadsticks?"_), what her favorite type of music was (R&B and Soul), what type of movies she liked to watch (horror/slasher flicks,_ "because sometimes good doesn't win and the bad guy can get away")_, what side of the bed she likes to sleep on (I'll let you guess as to how I know that), what her favorite color is (black, _"because it is the slick, mysterious and can hide any and every flaw")_ and even what type of motorcycle she likes to ride (Kawaski Ninja, _"because is there any one else that matters?"_). Though it was nice to know such little things that made Santana Santana, I didn't know anything about where she worked, who her family was, and who she was being an investor for. Any normal person wouldn't have given that much thought after only a few weeks of seeing the person but I had been living in the Batcave with the world's greatest detective. Something was just off and I was determined to find out what.

Just when I was about to throw on my outfit for a evening of dancing, I heard the phone in my room ring from the wall by the door. "What's up, Alfred?" I asked, picking it up.

"Miss Rachel, I have a Miss Lopez on the phone for you."

"Ok. Thanks Alfred." I waited for the click that indicated that the line had been switched over. "Santana?"

**_"Hey Bright Star,"_** I smiled at the nickname. Tell someone you dreamed of being a big singer when you were younger and they immediately come up with a nickname. I liked it though.

"Hi Santana. Are you here yet?"

**_"Um, about that. I can't make our date tonight."_ **I felt my entire mood drop.

"Really? Why?" I asked not even bothering to hide the disappointment in my voice.

**_"I have some work I have to attend to that needs to be done tonight."_**

"What kind of work?"

**_"You do know that curiousity killed the cat? Do you want to take that risk?"_ **Um, what?

"Excuse me?" I heard her laugh loudly and then I was really confused.

_**"I'm just kidding, Rach. No need to worry your cute little ass. It's just some work that I thought one of my co-workers could handle on their own but of course, Super Santana has to save the day."**_

"Super Santana? Sounds like at hero name. You wanna be a hero now?" I asked purely for fun.

**_"Oh please. I'm much better at being bad."_ **Damn that voice. I swallowed that giant lump that had magically appeared in my throat so loud, I swore she heard me.**_ "So look, I gotta go take care of this. Rain check on our date?"_**

"Of course," I said, after regaining the ability to speak.

**_"Cool beans. I better go. Have a good night Rach."_**

"I will. And you too."

_**"Trust me; I will."** _Before I could say goodbye, she hung up. Suspicious but not a major cause for concern.

So with no date and no more training for the rest of the night, I took a long hot shower to sooth my sore body. Then I changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top and prepared for a nice relaxing evening in front of our amazingly gigantic TV with a glass of wine (no one had to know I'm wasn't 21 yet) and a movie. But just like the way the rest of my day had been going, my plans for rest and relaxation was preempted by my favorite red light flashing above the TV screen. So much for that. Time to get to work.

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><p>"So why did we split up again? I thought this was a co-op mission?" I asked into my communicator as I scaled the side of the Gotham National Bank. You see, right as I prepared for my movie night, Bruce got an alert in the Batcave indicating that there was a break in at the bank. Again. I swear criminals need a new place to rob. But I digress. <strong><em>"The scanners indicate that there are multiple perps inside. Some to in the north and some in the south. I take the north and you take the south. That is… if you're ready."<em>** Not this shit again. I rolled my eyes. "Batman, you know that I am," I stated.

**_"Well show me you are because the scanners say that there are at least 3 right inside that window you're about to crawl through."_**

"Gotcha."

**_"Be careful and stay alert."_**

"Always." I peered into the window that Bruce was talking about and sure enough, there were three very large men walking the in the hallway. Easy enough. Making sure to keep myself steady on the ledge outside the window, I quietly cut a hole in the glass with my mini laser just big enough to toss in a small smoke bomb inside. It took three seconds to detonate, 4 seconds for me to jump through the glass of the window and 20 seconds for me to take down the perps. Take that Bruce.  
>So far, so good. I had been stalking about the inside the bank for about 15 minutes and nothing had pounced out of any dark corners, I hadn't been shot and Bruce hadn't called to inform me that the situation had escalated. Unfortunately, he also hadn't informed me that the problem had been resolved so I still had my guard up. But clearly not enough because I felt something thin touch my ankles and the next thing I knew, I was on my face. I really hate landing on my face. I tried to scramble to get on my feet as fast as possible but something was still around my ankles so I fell again. <strong>Dammit.<strong> "Looks like the Cat's got the Bat stuck in the spider's web." I knew that voice. I had heard it quite a few times on the job and I cringed every time.

"Catwoman."

"The one and only." She emerged from a corner in classic villainess fashion. The black of her hair almost matching the black leather of her cat suit. The black leather cat mask covering most of her face and the dark makeup on her eyes made them almost onyx. Despite the fact that the woman in standing above me was constantly trying to kill me; I still thought she was quite beautiful. Beautiful but deadly. "So, where's Papa Bat?" she asked sauntering up to me.

"Around somewhere." Probably shouldn't have said that because she laughed and crouched down in front of me. I started to try to pick myself up to put up some sort of a fight even without the use of my legs but she quickly pulled an 6 inch army combat knife from her side and brought it to my neck. "If you move; I will not hesitate to add a Cuban necktie to your fashion accessories," she threatened. I froze. Might as well do as she said to stay alive long enough to come up with a way to beat the cocky bitch. "Good girl. Now since your better half isn't here and my partner is busy removing the money from the bank, I feel that this is a perfect opportunity to get better aquainted with the girl bat."

"Batgirl," I corrected.

"Like it matters. So listen female flying rat, I'm getting really tired of you and your babysitter crashing all of my business transactions. How would you feel if someone was always interrupting your business meetings at what ever job you possess?"

"I don't have a job."

"No?" she seemed almost surprised and I was wondering when the hell Bruce was going to check on me. Normally he would check in every 5 minutes but for some reason; his end was silent. I was on my own for real. "Well that's cute."

"What do you want?" The time to move things along had come.

"Straight to the point, huh? Looks like the girl bat's grown a pair since the last time we met. Man bat whipping you into shape?"

"What do you want?" I asked again, growing irritated with her condescending and mocking tone.

"Well for starters, a manicure because mine is seriously in need of a touch up," she said looking at the diamond nails at the ends of her gloves. I rolled my eyes and she must have seen because she laughed again. That laugh, unlike the first one, seemed more natural and less maniacal. But something about it seemed oddly familiar. "Okay, well I also want something from inside of this here bank," she continued after she finished laughing.

"What?" I asked.

"Now why would I tell you that?"

"Because I thought we were getting better acquainted."

"Nice try girl bat." Just then, there was a loud explosion hear from downstairs that shook the ground we were on and that was my moment. I quickly batted the knife from her hands and using my ballet training, pulled a backwards tumble to create distance between us. My feet were still tied but at least I i din't have a knife to my neck anymore. She hopped up and pulled a gun from her back pocket (which I'm still not sure how she got a gun is such a tight outfit.) "Nice moves, girl bat," she said, aiming the gun at my head. **Damn.**

"It's Batgirl," I said, standing my ground (sort of).

"Like it matters. Now that was my queue to make my exit so if you wouldn't mind standing right there while I escape; I would love it." God, I wanted to punch that sexy (what it was) smirk off her face but I wasn't taking a bullet that day. Too many plans for the future to die during a simple bank robbery.

With gun still pointed, she stalked over to the window I burst through initially. "I scare you, don't I?" she asked out of the blue, with one foot out the window. I wanted to say no but I couldn't lie with her staring me down with those dark eyes of hers. Instead, I opted to not say anything at all. "Too presumptuous?" My head shot up. Why did that saying sound so familiar? "Oh well, gotta go before the man rat appears to save your cute little ass."

"Wait!" I shouted before she was completely out the window. Don't ask why but I had a hunch and I needed to test it. She stopped and waited for me to say something. "With all your skills, why not join our side and be a hero?" She stared at the gun in her hand for a moment, likely deciding on how to answer the question. Eventually she lowered the gun and answered simply, "Oh please. I'm much better at being bad." That's when it hit me. The laugh. The body. The eyes. The way she spoke. The disapparences. The cancelled dates. The unknown job. The mysterious business partners. Everything fit into place but yet it still didn't make sense at all. "Santana?" I said as she turned to leave again. She visibly tensed in her shoulders and she hesitated before leaping out of the window.

_**"Batgirl! Batgirl come in!"**_ Nice timing Bruce. Wait till I find out that my sort of girlfriend is Catwoman to contact me.

"I'm here," I answered.

**_"Good. I have the Penguin detailed in the north wing of the bank. Any word on Catwoman?"_**

"Um, no," I lied. "It's been quiet over here the entire time. She must have slipped away. You know how good she is at that."

**_"Well, we'll get her next time. Meet me in the front of the bank."_**

"Can do." I bent down and picked up the army knife from the floor and used it to break the rope around my feet. Taking a better look at it, I noticed that it wasn't just any army knife. It was a M6 bayonet. I also noticed some lettering on the handle. **SML**. I hadn't learned Santana's middle name but the S and the L was enough to convince me. I was **dating** Catwoman. Batgirl was dating Catwoman. Oh Bruce wasn't going to be happy about that.

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><p><strong>Hope you all enjoyed.<strong>

**** A/N: Who else is more in love with Santana/Naya after watching last night's episode? So much respect for her calling Will out on his accidental racism and boy was she sexy in La Isla Bonita (and to the people who have something to say about Naya's Spanish, she doesn't speak Spanish so she's doing her best singing in a language that is not her native tongue. So hush!)** **

**Now don't forget to review and stay tuned for the rest of Pezberry week**


	2. Author's note

Hey Gang!

So as you can tell, this really isn't a chapter. This is actually some important news. So since fanfiction was frozen all of yesterday (for reasons unknown), I uploaded the second chapter of "Week of Pez" to my livejournal. The link is on my profile, so you all can take a look there. I'm behind a day so tomorrow I will upload my submission for day three. But I will get them all up and hopefully you all will enjoy them.

Also, due to an outstanding amount of requests, I plan on continuing the Pezberry- Batgirl/Cartwoman AU. I will probably take that on after Pezberry week so keep an eye out.

Till tomorrow,  
>Jenae<p> 


	3. Starting a family

**A/N: So I don't have the time to keep up with the course of the days but luckily I already had this written. It's short but sweet. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to review. **

** So here's another one with our lovely ladies. Baby planning time!**

**disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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><p>Mama always win<p>

"Rachel, we are not naming it Anthony," Santana says plopping down on the bed next to her wife of 3 years.

"First off; he or she is not an 'it'. Second; why not? Anthony is a nice name for a boy," Rachel retorts, putting the book of baby names down on her lap.

"Because the only reason you want to name it Anthony is so you can call him Tony." Rachel rolls her eyes and picks the book back up. She picks one of the many colored tabs sticking out of the side of the book and opens to the page.

"Okay then. What about Emily?" Santana scrunches her face while she thinks. Rachel loves her scrunchy face. It makes her badass lawyer wife look so adorable.

"No." She quickly takes that adorable right back.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because then you will call her Emmy."

"Are you going to shoot down every name I propose?" she questions, setting the book down on the nightstand. Not like she has must need for it anymore.

"If it has to do with musical theater or awards for acting; then yes." Rachel sighs. Why does Santana have to be so infuriating? And stubborn? And what is wrong with musical theater?

"So I can't name her Angelina or Scarlett then?" The singer says, finding a loop hole in her wife's request.

"Jolie and Johansson?" Rachel nods. "Oh they're hot. I could totally live with one of those names." Seriously? That easy? Rachel quickly shakes her head.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because when our possible girl asks why we picked out her name, I'm not going to want to explain that we named her after one of the many women her Mami fantasizes about."

"One Scarlett sex dream and now i'm fantasizing about tons of women."

"That's the only one that I know about. Who knows about all the other ones I know nothing about?"

"Please. Baby, you're the only one I need. I don't have to fantasize," Santana says, slipping her hand under her wife's tank top and gently caressing the skin underneath. Rachel closes her eyes and sighs while relaxing into the Latina's teasing touch.

"Oh flattery, huh?" Rachel says, snapping back to reality.

"Always," Santana says with a smirk.

"Well help me pick out a name and then maybe you can get some special Rae-Rae time."

"Baby, you're only like 3 months pregnant. We have plenty of time," the Latina says, continuing to caress the tight, tanned abs that in the a few weeks, will start to swell with life.

"But it's best to be prepared," Rachel says, pulling the Santana's hand from under her shirt and putting in on her lap.

"Fine. What about Michael?"

"Jackson?"

"Is there any other one that matters?"

"No."

"Okay. What about Maria?"

"That's your middle name."

"Is it? I had no idea."

"You will not get a almost junior out of this. Next."

"Matthew?"

"What is it with you and m's today?"

"Dunno. I'm just in a m mood. Soo?"

"No."

"Damn Rach. Now you're going to shoot down all my ideas?"

"Don't like it, do you?"

"You spiteful little bitch." Rachel gasps and puts her hands on her stomach.

"Don't listen to her," she whispers to the invisible embryo. "Your Mami is just cranky because your Mama has gotten more clever than she is and is just as good at revenge."

"Oh please. I'm so much more clever than you."

"And she can't take it when I'm right. You'll get used to it," Santana rolls her eyes, puts her hands behind her head.

"Whatever. What about Micah?" she suggests.

"Micah?" Santana nods. "Cute and Biblical. I think I handle a Micah. And how about for a girl, Emilia? After your mom."

"She would love that, her selfish, conceited ass," Santana says with a little laugh.

"Santana, that's your mom," Rachel chastises.

"Doesn't make it any less true."

"You are horrible. But Emilia?"

"I can deal with that."

"Well alright. Then it's settled . Micah if the baby's a boy and Emilia if the baby's a girl."

"Yup."

"Seal it with a kiss," Santana nods before leaning over and kissing her wife slowly.

"Wait," Santana says as they pull apart. "You sneaky bitch, Emilia is just Spanish for Emily."

"So?"

"Well that means that you will still get to call her Emmy. Oh hell to the no."

"Sorry honey. No take backs. I win." She looks down at her stomach. "Mama always wins. Get used to that too sweetheart."


	4. Angst

**Hey gang! Ready for some drama? Well if not; turn back now. If so; prepare yourself. I wrote this late last night so it's a bit rough. All mistakes are mine. **

**So here you go. Enjoy and don't forget to review**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Rascal Flatt's "What Hurts the most"**

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><p>"<strong>BERRY!<strong>" Rachel sits up from the end of her bed when she hears her girlfriend's voice boom from downstairs. She knows she only gets called Berry when Santana is really annoyed or pissed off about something and judging by the way that she is bounding up the stairs and down the hallway to her room; it's definitely the latter. Problem is: Rachel has no idea what she did this time to make Santana so angry. "Yes Santana," she says calmly as the Latina barrows into her bedroom.

"What's this shit I hear about you going to prom with Hudson this year?" Rachel tenses and Santana isn't oblivious to it.

"And where did you hear that?" Rachel asks.

"Oh cut the fucking bullshit Rachel!" The smaller girl jumps back on her bed in an attempt to create some distance between her and the raging girl in front of her. Being too close is definitely a hazard to her health right now. "I heard from the jackass's mouth. He said that you asked him to prom and he accepted. Is that true or not?" Rachel watches as the Latina crosses her arms and looks at her with that challenging glare that is almost saying "I dare you to lie to me". So she doesn't.

"Yes, I did ask him," Santana huffs and throws her arms up in the air, "but you know why I had to."

"And why the hell is that?" Almost immediately, the glare is back and Rachel loses her words. She knows why she asked Finn to prom and she's pretty sure Santana knows too but having to say the words, to remind the girl she had fallen in love with of the pact they had made when they got together in the first place; was suddenly a lot harder with Santana looking at her like this. She decides to trend lightly and very cautiously. "Santana, baby, you know love you right?"

"Most of the time," Santana growls and despite the icy tone in her voice, Rachel continues.

"And you also know that when we started **this** I was dating Finn?"

"Unfortunately."

"And because of that I still love him too and I asked him to prom because I knew he would accept and you still aren't ready to be out with this." Santana's eyes widen and instead of pure anger, Rachel begins to see the real hurt in her eyes. She really doesn't want to have this conversation right now. She'd much rather cuddle with her girlfriend and watch one of the Bring it on movies like they had planned. But it doesn't look like that's going to happen. "What the fuck Rachel?" Santana yells. "I told you just last week that because I loved you, I was willing to take that step. And I would do so by **PUBLICLY** asking you to our goddamn senior prom. And if I remember correctly, you said that you would 'love that and nothing would make you happier'. And then you go ahead and ask that fucking son of a bitch Hudson?"

"Santana, please calm down so we can talk about this," Rachel attempts to pacify the pacing girl but to no avail.

"No Rachel! NO! I will not calm down because I can't believe that after all we've been to each other, you would throw all that away for some stupid ass boy." Just then, Rachel notices the tears starting to form in the Latina's eyes and she quickly springs from the bed and launches herself at her. But Santana pushes her away. Hard. She hits the back of her legs on the end of her bed and topples backwards onto the mattress. "No Rachel. You will not touch me," Santana shouts. "You know what, I can't do this. Rachel you have to choose. Right now. Me or him?" Propping herself up on her elbows, Rachel looks at her Cheerio as she openly starts to cry in front her. She wants to just tell the other girl what she knows she wants to hear but unfortunately, she can't. "But I can't San," She says timidly. "You know I love you both too much to lose either one of you."

"Well too late. Because if you can't pick who you want, I will make the decision for. I'm done."

"But San," Rachel pleads as she watches the Latina walks out of her room. And out of her life.

* * *

><p><strong>Ten years later<strong>

"Hey Rachel, did you get the mail today?" A small brunette hears her husband say from the kitchen.

"Not yet honey," she says getting up from the couch. "I'll go get in now."

"Thanks Rach." She smiles as she slips on her flats, opens the door and exits their New York apartment. All her life, she had dreamed of moving to New York, living in a dream apartment or condo on 5th Avenue, with the dream job and the dream husband. For a while she wasn't sure that last part would come true but when Finn decided to follow her as she worked to follow her goals; she knew everything would turn out the way that it was supposed to be. As she walks down the four flights of stairs (because exercise is important), she can't help but wonder how different her life could've been if she hadn't married Finn. Of course she loves him. Always has. She just tends to wonder if she really made the right choice so many years ago.

When she gets to the rows of mailboxes in the first floor lobby, she is greeted by her favorite doorman. "Good morning, Mrs. Hudson," the young man says with a bright smile.

"Good morning, Aaron," she says energetically. "And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Rachel?" She pulls out her keys, unlocks the mailbox labeled "Hudson" and retrieves the envelopes inside.

"I'm sorry Miss Rachel," he says timidly. Close enough.

"No need to be sorry." She closes the mailbox and removes her key. "Have a good day, Aaron," she says walking towards the elevator this time.

"You too Miss Rachel."

As soon as the doors of the elevator close, Rachel starts flipping through the numerous amounts of envelopes. Bills. Advertisements. Magazine subscription notices. Basically the same old, same old. But one small square envelope stands out from the rest. It's directed to Mrs. Rachel Hudson and the return address is unfamiliar. She rips the seal and removes a note inside.

_I got this a few days ago and I don't know why I'm sending it to you but I thought that you should know._

_-Mercy_

Taking her best friend's warning, she carefully pulls out the very neatly decorated stationary.

**_You have been cordially invited to the wedding of_**

**_Miss Santana Maria Lopez_**

**_and_**

**_Miss Christina Lucia Castillo_**

Rachel doesn't even finish reading before her chest tightens and her heart drops. When was the last time she had spoken to Santana? Ten years. It's been ten years since she had last spoken to the former cheerleader and now she's getting married? Rachel isn't sure why she feels so hurt about the news. They have been broken up for ten years now and she and Finn are closing in on their fifth anniversary. She should be happy about hearing that her old girlfriend has found her happiness and is getting married. Right? Then why doesn't she?

* * *

><p>Maybe it's because she never really finished having feelings for her and only girlfriend. Sure they had only been seeing each other for about a year, but it was enough time for her to fall in love. The first problem; she was also dating one Finn Hudson. The arrangement when she and Santana started was that she was to continue dating Finn to keep up appearances until Santana was ready to come out. The second problem: Rachel was still very much in love with Finn and had fallen for Santana as well. And the other girl fell even harder. So when Santana stormed out of her room on that night, they both weren't just broken up. They were both heartbroken. Many nights, Rachel found herself crying herself to sleep. She missed the Latina but she just couldn't afford to break things off with Finn. She loved him way too much and he did fit the picture of her dream after all.<p>

So despite the tightness in her chest, the red and puffy appearance of her eyes and the soreness in her throat, she wasn't going to let losing one of the loves of her life stop her life. After all, Santana was the one that walked away; not her. So on following Monday, she walked into the McKinley High school and walked through the halls like nothing happened. She kissed and hugged Finn like the perfect girlfriend would and started living her life like she imagined it before Santana Lopez first kissed her lips and captured her heart. And she was doing well until the very moment she saw the tan skinned Cheerio walk by and seeing the cold indifference in her eyes, brought all the pain and sadness back to the surface.

As she continued building a stronger relationship with Finn, Rachel's relationship with Santana fell apart piece by piece. At first, they just stopped talking to each other beyond school related things. But when the glances turned to glares and the greetings turned to insults; Rachel knew that the love that Santana had for her wasn't enough to fight for what they had. After graduation, they lost touch and even with Finn by her side, Rachel wished more than anything that she and Santana would have had the time to talk. Maybe amend things and at least become friends again. Maybe more. Either way, she would've had her best friend back.

* * *

><p>'But why contact me now? Why after all these years of not a word, would Mercedes think that I would want to see my ex-girlfriend get married to some unknown woman? Especially after the way we ended.' Rachel thinks as she exits the elevator when it reaches her floor. She's still staring at the invitation in her hand when she walks back into the apartment. "So anything important?" she jumps at the tenor of the voice radiating from the kitchen. With so much thinking about Santana, she had almost who she's actually married to. Who she had actually chosen. "Nothing but the usual," she says dropping the other mail on the couch. "I'm going to hang out in the bedroom for a bit."<p>

"Okay babe." She takes the invite, walks into their shared bedroom and closes the door. Sitting down on the end, she takes a deep a breath and opens the envelope again.

**_Come help us celebrate our union on the_**

**_Twenty-fourth of April,_**

**_Two thousand and twenty-two_**

"April 24th? That's next week," Rachel thinks aloud. At the bottom of the paper, she notices a number to call and RSVP. It's been ten years. Ten whole years and Rachel can't understand the urge she has to call. Maybe it's her need to hear that raspy, sultry voice one more time. Maybe it's her need to clear air. She never had the chance to say everything she had wanted to say so many years ago. She never had the chance to make a real choice about her future. Santana made that choice for when she walked out of her bedroom. And now, with Santana's future presented in front of her, Rachel can't help but think of the past and how she wishes she would've done more to keep her relationship with the Latina and prove to her just how much she meant to her. As she stares at the phone across the room, contemplating whether or not to pick it up and dial the number, she finally, after these years, finds the right words.

_But I know if I could do it over_

_I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart_

_That I left unspoken_

_What hurts the most_

_Was being so close_

_And havin' so much to say_

_And watchin' you walk away_

_And never knowin'_

_What could've been_

_And not seein' that loving you_

_Is what I was tryin' to do_


	5. First kiss

**This was a part of Pezberry Week and since fanfiction was down that day, I uploaded it on my livejournal. I'm uploading it on here now to keep things all together. This is Pezberry week day 2: First kiss.**

** So here's a short but sweet little Pezberry one shot where Rachel and Santana have a chance meeting at the Jersey Shore years after graduation. If I made any mistakes, let me know so I don't make the same ones in later stories. So enjoy and leave your comments.**

**Disclaimer**: **I own nothing.**

* * *

><p>"Santana? A picnic?" she said, taking in the sight presented in front of her. Finally after two whole months of flirting, several date proposals and using almost all of my moves in my arsenal, Rachel had agreed to go out with me. I really never thought that I would be asking her out but after a chance meeting in Seaside Heights at the Jersey Shore the summer before senior year in college, something changed. Maybe it was because I finally got to see her in normal clothes. And she looked so good. Now before I tell you a secret, I must inform you that if anyone finds out about this, I will end you. Painfully. Okay? Cool beans<p>

So I've always sort of had a thing for her. Ever since the first time I heard her sing and I saw her in one of her little school girl skirts. Like I really liked her skirt. How someone so short could have legs so long, I will never know. But when she opened her mouth and all those goddamn words started flooding out a mile a minute, the cute went away. Sorta. Now when my parents decided to spend the summer at the Jersey Shore, I wasn't all that excited. I mean, seriously? Who spends the entire summer in guido and guidette territory without being paid for it?

But anyway, it wasn't until like, the second or third day that I walked right into a small brunette on the beach. Well more like she ran into my boobs while chasing after a Frisbee or ball or or some shit like that. She was just as surprised to see me as I was to see her; especially in a small black bikini that made my mouth water and all my game leave seep out through my ears. "Rachel Berry," I said, lowering my shades to stare her down (and check her out).

"Santana. Hi," she said, smiling that million watt Berry smile that only shone brighter under the noon day sun. "Fancy running into you here. Literally." Why the hell did I suddenly find her incredibly cute? It was like being away from her for some time actually made me miss her. A bit. Maybe.

"Family trip. You?"

"Same."

"Cool".

After that little exchange, we sort of started hanging out. It started out just because we were the only people we knew that wasn't family. After a while though, we starting hanging out because we actually wanted to spend time together. Spending time together turned into flirting and flirting turned into actually liking. At least for me. Older, maturer Berry was also a calmer, sexier, more interesting Berry. It took me all of two weeks to start to develop some real feelings for the hobbit princess. Two more weeks to build up the courage to ask her out. All of 30 seconds for her to turn me down flat. I think I punched some random guy after that but it got a little blurry after the fifth shot. Three days after that; I tried again. That time it took her an hour to think before she turned me down. Again. But since what Santana wants; Santana gets, I waited two more weeks and after three or four more tries, she eventually said yeah. Score.

So I got all dressed up in a nice blue summer dress and wedges and headed to the beach. There I set up a blanket in the sand under the night sky. I packed several Tupperware containers of Berry-friendly food, two plates, two plastic flutes and a bottle of Champagne (because I was 21 and could legally wine and dine my date).

"Yeah," I said, extremely proud of myself for putting that huge Berry grin on her face. "I know you're into all the romantic stuff so I figured since we're staying by the beach; why not a beach picnic for our first date?"

"So this is actually a date? Like you were serious about going on a date with me?" I wanted to point out to her that I had tried to ask her out on a goddamn DATE like all summer but I just settled for a simple, "Only if you want it to be." She looked at the spread in front of her, smiled then sat down on her side, crossing her feet at the ankles leaving me standing in the sand awkwardly.

"Come sit next to me," she said, patting the space on the blanket. Didn't have to tell me twice.

"Don't mind if I do." I sat down legs extended, adjusting my dress so my whole business wasn't on full display. Which was pretty hard considering how short it was. Also, I'd like to mention that Rachel picked like the shortest sundress in all of sundress history to wear that night. It was some cute little orange thing that had a white belt on it and she looked so freakin' adorable yet incredibly sexy at the same time. "Is this really a date" my ass. She sure enough was dressed for a date but considering my track record of playing with people's emotions, I can understand why she was dubious.

Once I was situated, I started opening the different containers. "You eat yet?" I asked.

"No. While my dads were off getting something to eat, I was out searching for a music store around here." The hell?

"Rachel, you went around by yourself? At night? In Jersey?" I knew she was a independent and a bit crazy but I didn't think she was suicidal.

"Calm down, San," I smiled at the nickname. "I went with some of my Dad's cousin's kids. I mean, we are all staying in their house so might as invite them along." I breathed a sigh of relief and returned to removing the contents of each container onto each plate. "If you were wondering, I was looking for some new vocal sheet music." I sort of assumed but hey, she wasn't a mind reader.

"Did you find some?" I asked, setting the empty containers to the side and handing her a plate with a fork.

"Thanks," she said, taking the plate from me. Always with the manners. "And no. We never actually found a music store before the sun went down and by then, I had gotten your call to meet you here. Which by the way, why here? Why not just watch the fireworks with everybody else?" I wanted to say that it was because it was a date and who the hell hangs around their family on a date? Like who cares if it was the Fourth of July? That first date was WAY more important than some damn fireworks. So instead, I used some of the 'ol Lopez charm. "Just wait. You'll understand soon enough," I said with a wink.

"Really Santana? You know how I am about secrets and surprises," she whined and I hated myself for finding it so damn cute.

"Just relax, Smurfette and have fun. I promise you it will be worth it to let go and let someone else take the wheel for just this once," I reassured her and instead of saying something like she always did, she just smiled, took my hand in hers, placed them both in her lap, sat back and looked out into the water.

For about an hour or so, we just talked. Like we always talked (sort of) but that time we really talked. And who knew that Rachel Berry could be so interesting to actually listen to? Like, she seriously had one good head on her shoulders. As soon as she got her diploma, she packed her bags, made her way to NYADA, and was prepared to take Broadway by storm. She told me about all the auditions she had been in. All the callbacks she got and didn't get. All the nights she celebrated with Kurt and Mercedes when she got a small role in some off Broadway musical. She even told me about the all the nights she cried herself to sleep after hearing yet another "No, you're just not what we're looking for". The whole time, she never let go of my hand. And I didn't pull away.

Honestly, I was having an amazing time. After all the years. After all the names, the insults, the slushies, the backstabs, the put downs. After all of that; under the stars and moonlight reflected off of the black ocean, I felt like I was seeing Rachel for the first time. Now sure she was still psychotic, neurotic, blunt and probably one of the biggest pains in my ass that ever existed but something about her on that day drew me in. Maybe it was the way that the moonlight was reflected in her bright eyes as she listened to the invisible waves in the distance. Or the way that she bobbed her head like she was dancing to the rhythm of splash and swallow. Whatever the reason, in that moment I made a crucial decision. I knew it was a going to be a risk considering how soon it was in our sorta non-platonic friendship but hey, since when did Santana Motherfucking Lopez back down from a challenge? So I went for it. "Rachel," I said softly, gripping her hand and using it to turn her body slightly so she was facing me.

"Yes?" she said innocently and right as the first fireworks lit up the night sky, I leaned in and kissed her. I kissed Rachel Berry and Ay Madre de Dios, did it feel so good. And so right. When she started to kiss me back, nothing else mattered. Not the sounds of the waves. Not the booms of the fireworks in the distance night sky. All I felt was my lips on hers. Our combined breaths and my pulse racing, filling my heart and threatening to make it burst right out of my chest.

Honestly if two months ago, you would've told me that I would be kissing the one Miss Rachel Berry on a blanket in the sand on the beach under the stars and the fireworks; I would've kicked you in the groin (male or female; I don't really give a damn) to make sure that stupid wasn't passed on to the next generation, smacked you across the face and sent you to the nearest mental institution. But that was before the summer started and Berry crept her little big nosed ass into my heart. After that; nothing else mattered.


End file.
